


Ghost! Pirate! England x Reader

by Sleepy_Corinne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Ghosts, Halloween, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 09:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4782467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepy_Corinne/pseuds/Sleepy_Corinne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's October 31st. It's Halloween. <br/>Halloween is one of your most favorite holidays and you are planning to have a lot of fun with your best friend, Elizabeta. Go trick or treating, dress up, mess around - you know, the usual stuff. Unfortunately for you, your best friend has something else in mind so when you end up spending your favorite holiday with Gilbert, Antonio and Francis and going to a mysterious 'haunted' house you couldn't help but feel somewhat sad that things didn't go exactly the way you wanted them to. Sure, your long time cursh Francis was with you but... ghost houses just <i> weren't </i> your thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost! Pirate! England x Reader

“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown”

― H.P. Lovecraft

Every city, town, and village has its own ghost stories. Whether it’s based on an actual event that occurred many years ago, or in some cases, centuries, or plain gibberish that the kid next door made up in an attempt to impress his friends. Of course, the reactions to these seemingly harmless stories vary: some get scared, try their best not to show it and put on a mask of forged courage and bravery, afraid that their friends will make fun of them. Others… well, there is nothing more delightful than a good scare to them. The goose bumps, being too afraid to look behind you, the way your eyes start scanning the room over and over again, as if frustrated that they are unable to spot anything; something invisible to the unequipped eye, something that is silently plotting your demise. Eyes following your every move, ghostly snickers sounding throughout the room every time you gulp. Of course, the snickers don’t go undetected by your ears – you are alarmed now. Your eyes start searching the room frantically. What is it? Where is it? And then, when panic has caught you in its solid grip, the creature finishes sharpening its nails. It stealthily creeps behind you, and then with a horrifying sound it –   
Ah, dear reader, living in a world where we constantly fear the unknown and all supernatural forces, the most petrifying of their kind, would’ve been terrible, wouldn’t you agree? Assuming that you agreed, I am convinced that you’ll be rejoiced to her that our ancestors thought so, too. For in every culture, annual celebrations to ward off the evil spirits are held. The most popular one that we all know and love has got to be Halloween.   
Nowadays, we hardly ever dress up to ward off the evil spirits, although there are certainly people who do that still. Every year, on October 31st, the streets of many cities in various locations across the globe, all kinds of people roam the streets. Laughter, cries of joy and chatter fill the air.   
This story I am about to share with you happened not so long ago in a relatively small, coastal town in England.   
***  
Halloween has, and perhaps will always be, one of your favorite holidays. You simply couldn’t get enough of the ghost stories that thrilled you, the excitement that bubbled inside you when the month of October started, the little (yet significant) amount of time you spent thinking, sketching and, if need be, purchasing materials, articles of clothing, and all sorts of other things, online that were to be used in the making of yet another costume. You started making your own costumes for Halloween (well, not exactly making…) by yourself only a few years ago, having gotten tired of the trashy costumes they sold in every store right around the corner. Now, you certainly couldn’t brag that you made absolutely every part of your costume, or claim that it was something exquisite, but it was presentable enough. And let’s be realists – you didn’t have the experience (or patience!) to make a costume as grand and as entrancing as the gowns worn by Marie Antoinette… but hey! The simpler the better, right?   
Just as you were putting the finishing touches to your Little red riding hood costume which consisted of a white dress which you had purchased online, your favorite boots, the picnic basket that you found in the storage room and the shiny blood red cloak that you had sewn yourself and were quite proud of. Don’t get me wrong – “making” is a very… relative term that doesn’t always involve needles. Or fabric. Or sewing. In can merely be… oh, I don’t know. Incorporatingclothestocreateacostume? Oh, don’t look at me like that! It’s the effort that counts!   
“Honestly, (y/n),” your loyal friend Elizabeta said from her spot on your bed, plopping another piece of candy in her mouth, “I don’t understand why you don’t just buy a costume from the grocery store like everyone else. I mean –”   
You let out a sigh; something that signaled the Hungarian that she needn’t finish her thought, for this conversation had already been had before.   
“Because whenever I go to the Halloween costume department in the grocery store, or any other store, there isn’t a single label that doesn’t have the word “slutty” on it-”   
Your friend was about to say something, but you lifted your free hand, the one that wasn’t smoothing out your red cloak, stopping her from saying anything. Then, with your best bored sales clerk voice said: “Slutty nurse costume - £10. Slutty angel - £15. Slutty _bee_ \- £20. A _Bee_ , Eliza! How can a _bee_ be slutty?”   
“Well, if you really want to know –” The brunette grinned, teasingly preparing to explain.   
“I honestly don’t.” You shot her a glare and crossed your arms over your chest.   
“Aww, don’t get mad, (y/n)! I was only teasing you!”   
“I’m not mad, I’m just… frustrated, I guess. I mean, with all of these slutty cos – ”   
“Ahem. You are speaking to slutty devil here, so please keep my overly delicate feelings in consideration. You should try these costumes at least once! They aren’t that bad, I swear!”   
You made a face. The Hungarian raised one elegant brow at you, daring you to argue. Challenge accepted.   
“Me? In such a costume? I don’t have the cleavage for it. I’m as flat as a boy. In fact, boys are more gifted in the chest area than me! I – ”   
“You don’t have small breasts!”   
“…” Now it was your turn to arch an eyebrow.   
“Well, they aren’t big either…”   
You weren’t sure if you could raise your eyebrow any more than you had already.   
“What I’m trying to say is you just don’t know how to _enhance_ your breasts.”   
“…”   
“…”   
“…Oookay. This got awkward quicker than I expected. Let’s never speak of my breasts again.”   
“It’s true though!”   
“Oh my! Look at the time! We have to get going! Don’t want to miss Halloween now, do we?” And with that you proceeded to put your boots on , lace them, and then securely tie the cloak around your neck. “Let’s g – ”  
“Hold it, young lady!” Eliza exclaimed and you froze.   
“Oh, no. Please, not again – ”  
“This year, for the annual “Eliza dares (y/n)”… I want you to wear these!” Then she proceeded to pull out two long, white stockings from the small black bag she was carrying.   
“Oh no.”   
“Come on! Put them on!”   
Knowing that you probably won’t leave the room until you did as you were ordered, you took the stocking and, after unlacing your boots and taking them off, you put these… things you were pretty sure Eliza stole from a street fairy (AKA a hooker). Then you took a look at yourself in the mirror.   
“I look like the girls in Francis’ magazines.”   
“Good! He’ll be delighted when he sees you in them!”   
“He won’t see me.” You said, a light pink dusting your cheeks. You were embarrassed at the mere thought of that happening. “Knowing him, Gilbert and Antonio, they will probably spend the entire night pulling pranks on people.”   
Eliza shrugged.   
“Who knows? Let’s go!”   
“Hold it. Did you think _I_ didn’t have anything prepared for _you_? If I’m going to suffer, you will too.”  
The Hungarian groaned.   
“Now, now. If we, by any chance, by absolute coincidence, happen to meet Gilbert and the other two I want you to… hm, not respond to Gilbert like you normally do. Accept his, ah, how do I put this… “compliments.””   
“You’re a bitch.”   
“Oh, I know.” You smiled.   
“Come on. They are waiting for us near Mrs. Grey’s house.”   
“Mrs. Grey? Our literature teacher?”   
“Yes, (y/n), our _literatorture_ teacher.”   
You decided not to question your friend further.   
***  
“Whoa, Liz! A slutty devil, huh? So you’re finally starting to show your true colors…”   
“Ahahaha!” you had never heard her fake a laugh as bad as she did now, “Very funny, Gilbert!” the Hungarian shot you a glare, but you ignored it.   
“What’s wrong with her?” The albino, dressed as a vampire, a look that oddly suited him, asked. Then he turned his attention to you. “And (y/n)? In stockings? Dressed as Snow White? Oh, I’m going to make you say hohoho backwards…”  
“Mi amigo, I think she’s dressed as Little red riding hood, not Snow White.” Antonio, who had decided to be a werewolf this year, decided to clarify.   
“My offer remains open.”   
“No thank you, Edward Cullen. I’ll pass.”   
“Your loss.” Gilbert shrugged his shoulders. “You aren’t my type anyways. And you look like the girls from Francis’ wet dreams! It would be unfair if I stole you from him!”   
You felt utterly embarrassed, seeing as that was a tad bit too much information, yet had the incredible urge to facepalm.   
“Mon ami, let’s not talk about our wet dreams for once. You are making (y/n) and Eliza uncomfortable.”   
“It’s not a problem.” The Hungarian said with a smile. “I’ve known Gilbert ever since we were this small and – oh, did I tell you about that time he dreamt about –”   
“Yes, Liz, no need to get into details.” Worry shone in Gilbert’s ruby eyes as he hurried to interrupt her. Was that a blush on his face? You were curious what that was all about and made a mental note to ask Eliza later.   
_If only you knew…_   
“More importantly, what are we going to do now?” Francis asked. He was dressed like Prince Charming – you weren’t sure what forces had possessed him to do that but you would be forever in their debt. Just earlier today you had told your Hungarian friend how good you thought Francis would look if he were to dress as Prince Charming. Before you could make the simple connection, Gilbert spoke up again.   
“Don’t worry! I have it all figured out right here!” He pointed at his head, grinning. “You know that mansion that’s just outside of town? You know, the one that’s been abandoned for centuries?”  
“Ooh! The one they say is haunted? I like where this is going!” The cheerful Spaniard said. He reminded you of an excited puppy.   
“Ja. You guys in?”   
“Yes.”   
“Si!”   
“Oui.”   
Then, all eyes were on you.   
“(y/n)? We’re waiting.” The albino said. “Are you in or… are you too much of a chicken to join us?”   
“Don’t be silly. Ghosts don’t exist.” You said, but they continued to look at you expectantly. “Yes! I’m in!” The irritation lacing your reply was clear, but nobody was bothered by it. This was not at all how you had imagined your night would go. Not to mention this feeling that made your stomach flip… fear? Nervousness? You weren’t sure but you didn’t like it.   
“Awesome. Let’s go. Francis, you’re driving.”   
“D’accord.”   
***  
The way Gilbert explained it, I sounded as if the “haunted” house were about five or ten minutes away. In reality, it was an hour and a half away if you went there by car.   
The car ride was hardly bearable. Gilbert, Antonio and Elizabeta had gotten drunk. Apparently, that little shit Gilbert had known that you would be spending some quality time together during the ride, so to “keep the party going” as he put it, he brought a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. By now, you can probably imagine how it all went down. Well, I hope you do because I’d rather spare you the details.   
Currently, you were forced to listen to those drunk idiots behind you sing Rammstein songs. You weren’t sure if things were getting better or worse, but if you had to spend twenty more minutes in this car you were sure you’d go mad. In fact, jumping out of the vehicle sounded like an awfully tempting idea…   
“I’m the Sugar Baby, the real Sugar Baby. All you other Sugar Babies are just imitating. So won’t the real Sugar Baby please jump up, please jump up, please jump up?”   
“Ugh, I want those Rammstein songs back now…”  
“Ma Cherie, I don’t think the problem is in the songs. I think it’s in our lovely singers in the backseat.”   
“Tee-hee! Franny, are you flirting with me? Wait, which one of you all said that? Or are you all hitting on me? Oh my!” The blushing Spaniard who was cupping his cheeks with his hands giggled.   
“Oui. Whatever you think is true, Toni.” Francis lit yet another cigarette. It was his fifth one so far… unless, without realizing it, you had fallen asleep and missed him lighting an undefined number of cigarettes.   
“Will this car ride ever end?” You whined. The Frenchman smiled at you gently.   
“It will, soon. We’re almost there.” He reassured you and you sighed.   
“Gosh, I’m sorry Francis. As if those three aren’t enough and now I’m burdening you with my complaints…”   
“Don’t worry, cherie. You can never burden me.” For a brief moment you held eye contact, looking into his beautiful, beautiful blue eyes. His eyes reminded you so much of the forget-me-nots in your mother’s small garden in your house’s backyard. They were such a beautiful shade of blue… so… entrancing.   
Sadly, Francis had to break the eye contact in order to keep an eye on the road ahead.   
“Thank you.”   
He didn’t say anything, occupying himself with his cigarette. Normally, you hated being around smokers and under normal circumstances you would’ve asked him to put out his cigarette but… you kind of pitied the poor guy. A drunk Eliza wasn’t hard to manage but a drunk Antonio _and_ a drunk Gilbert… you didn’t even want to think about it. At least all three were silent now. You turned your head to see what they were up to only to find all three fast asleep. They were an oddly endearing sight; cute even, one would say, had they not reeked of whisky so bad. Then you turned your attention back to Francis.   
“Do you always have to take care of them when they are drunk?” You inquired, admiring his profile. Was there a moment n which this guy didn’t look handsome? He looked good even while smoking. Frightfully so.   
“Non. They aren’t always like this. Besides, I don’t like drinking for the sake of getting drunk. I like to drink to savor the taste.” And for a brief moment, that sounded awfully poetic. The moment seemed almost romantic – the wind blowing his hair, the forest that surrounded the unkempt road on both sides. It was like there was something magical in this moment; You weren’t sure what it was but you knew, you just knew, that this moment would forever remind imprinted in your head.   
You took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air that was coming from the opened window. Then, you leaned your back on your seat, trying to relax, and soon started drifting off.   
***   
“We’re here.” Francis’s distant voice was the first thing you heard while struggling to realize what was going on. Francis. What was Francis doing in your room? Wait, why did your neck hurt? Slowly and groggily, you woke up. The first thing you saw, which in your current state of dizziness confused you even more, was the radio. Gentle French songs were playing. Then you saw the clock next to it. It was 01:30 AM. Then you realized you were in a car and that there was an orange blanked draped over you.   
“Are we there yet?” A very sleepy Gilbert asked with a yawn.   
“Yes. Wake the others up.”   
“Gotcha.”   
All pieces came together. Today… or was it yesterday ow? Today or yesterday was Halloween and you along with…   
“(y/n).” Francis nudged you gently. “Don’t fall asleep on me again, s’il tu plait.”   
“Francis?” You looked into his breathtakingly beautiful eyes again. He could easily pass for a prince right out of a fairytale. “I’m sorry I fell asleep…” You tried to rub the sleep off your eyes and yawned.   
“It’s alright. Come now, let’s get going. I don’t want to stay here longer than necessary.” You could only nod to that.   
Soon enough, everybody was awake and out of the car. The cold night air refreshed and braced everybody’s nerves.   
Once you were fully awake it didn’t take you long to put two and two together and realize who had covered you with that blanket. You had to remember to thank Francis later.   
It turned out that you were at the foot of the huge mansion Francis hadn’t dared to drive further than where the road ended, afraid that he might damage his car in some way.   
Sure, Gilbert muttered something about his ass freezing and something about Francis but everybody agreed that this was for the best. You couldn’t afford to lose your only means of transport here, where your phones had no signal.   
The mansion was built on somewhat of a cliff – quite clitché if you thought about it but you didn’t care. It was quite obvious that nobody had set a foot in it for a long time. It looked old, it looked dirty and it was clear that nobody kept it in repair. In a few words, the huge building was in a sorry state. It was sad, if you thought about it – many things pointed that it had once been a beautiful building. There was something eerie about the place, though. Perhaps it was the dull silence that filled the air or the mist or the “scary aura” that surrounded the place as your cousin would say.   
You could feel that feeling from earlier this night returning. Or perhaps it had been there ever since Gilbert suggested coming to this place. In the car, it had been replaced by a false sense of security, however the effects of the comforting car ride had worn off. This feeling, it made your stomach flip, it made goose bumps appear all over your body and it made your hair stand. You had the urge to run, to scream, to cry, but instead, you silently followed your friends that were clumsily racing towards the giant building.   
“Stupid…” You shouldn’t have come. You shouldn’t have listened to them. You shouldn’t have agreed to this for the sake of looking brave in the eyes of your friends. Was it too late to turn back now? Maybe –   
“Scared?” A calm voice, coming from your left inquired. It wasn’t teasing you or mocking you. No, it was just a simple question. The way this question sounded made you think of the casual way you would ask a stranger about the time. It startled you, nevertheless, and you looked at the speaker in alarm.   
Once again, blue eyes met your own pair of (e/c) ones. Francis.   
“A bit.” You forced a smile, wanting to finish this conversation before it even started.   
“I am too.”   
At those words, you raised an eyebrow. “You? Scared?”   
He had appeared so mature back in the car. The way he looked, the way he acted, the way he did… well, everything. It sounded so weird, hearing him utter those words.   
“It’s true. I’m not overly fond of such places.” The blond motioned the house, chuckling. Out of nervousness or amusement, you weren’t sure.   
“The others seem excited to be here.” You said, watching as the other three cheerfully ran around. Where they had all of this energy from would remain a mystery to you, but they seemed happy, and that made you smile.   
“It’s probably the remaining alcohol in their systems. The Toni I know would be jokingly suggesting to leave by now.”   
You giggled at his attempt to cheer you up.   
“Mind if I take his role for tonight?”   
“You? No!” He faked being shocked. “What happened? Didn’t you say that ghosts didn’t exist?”   
“Yes, and I still stand behind my words. It’s just… something about this place makes me uneasy.” Suddenly you felt bad again. It was like you had been spinning too fast on a carousel and were now fighting the urge to throw up. Clearly, your discomfort showed on your face.   
“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Francis grabbed your hand, stopping you and made you look at him. “Truth to be told, I want to leave this place already. I want to leave it as soon as possible. It’s giving me the creeps, too.”   
You nodded in agreement. You weren’t sure to what extent he could relate to what you were feeling, but either way, you decided, now wasn’t the time to go describing in depth what you were feeling. Or maybe it was?   
“But I am with my friends and I will try to have a good time. I mean, there is nothing to be scared of, right? Come on, (y/n) try to cheer up a bit and let’s try to have a good time, okay?”   
“I’ve always been told to rely on what my gut tells me and… I have a bad feeling about this place, Francis. I just can’t shake it off. I just feel so… so goddamn frightened and nervous I can’t even find the right words to describe what I am feeling. I am glad that everyone is having fun but...” You weren’t sure how to continue but by the looks of it, he understood.   
“(y/n).” The way he said your name made you feel giddy. It sounded way nicer coming from his mouth than anyone else’s. “It’s going to be okay. I am here with you, do you hear me? I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” You could only nod and try to keep your nerves at bay as you approached the mansion that looked more and more threatening with each step you took. Francis had wrapped his arm around your shoulders and was talking you, which did make you feel somewhat better, but that dull feeling remained.


End file.
